


Diplomatic Relations

by fenfyre (Jace)



Category: The Dragon Prince (Cartoon)
Genre: Kasef is a pillow Prince, M/M, and Soren very eager to prove himself
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-16
Updated: 2019-12-16
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:14:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21824230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jace/pseuds/fenfyre
Summary: A single night of respite is all they have but Soren is determined to make the best of it.
Relationships: Kasef/Soren (The Dragon Prince)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 41





	Diplomatic Relations

Their troops stopped for the night and built their encampment on a hill not too far from Xadia. In the distance Soren could make out the almost threatening glow of the border cutting a line of molten fire through the earth. Tomorrow they would cross over into the magical lands of the elves but tonight they would rest for the battles ahead.

A cold shiver ran down his spine as he regarded the traces of the distant border, his mind drifting into uncertainty the longer he watched the unsteady flicker bleed into the darkness of the night. In the end he had to turn away to shut down the conflicting ideas spinning through his mind.

A few paces ahead he could make out his father and Claudia huddled together behind one of the tents, speaking to each other in hushed voices. The cold shiver returned and Soren decided not to walk over to them. Instead he let his gaze wander, taking in loyal soldiers building their modest sleeping chambers for the night.

Or at least most of them were modest. There was one tent that was taller and much more lavish and luxurious than those of the other soldiers who had barely used a few thick cloth pieces to strap together some shelter. This one was made from fine fabrics, supported by carved wooden poles and decorated with artfully crafted lanterns that illuminated the broad entryway.

Without seeing him Soren already knew who this tent would belong to and, deciding he could use some distraction, he walked over towards it, unsure if he wanted to smile or furrow his brows at this unnecessary decadence. It was rude and unfair to show off ones status when among this many soldiers who all worked and fought just as hard as their more wealthy leaders. But then again only a pampered prince could bring a tent fit for ten people and decorated to suit an Emperor to accommodate him for a few nights on a battle field.

Soren greeted the guard who was still fiddling with one of the lanterns before simply pushing the flap covering the entrance aside and stepping into the generous tent. The muffled protest of the guard immediately went quiet as the heavy fabric fell into place behind him again.

“Knock knock!”, he called out, looking around for the Neolandian prince and how crazy was it to search someone inside a tent? Let alone one he could easily stand up in? Not even King Harrow had ever insisted on such opulence and he had been, well, a king.

“What are you doing in here?”

The hiss made Soren whirl around where he finally found the prince sitting in a circle of soft, thick pillows on the ground. What a waste of good space, having a tent one could stand in, only to lounge on the ground like in any other, less luxurious one. Between his dark fingers Kasef held a cup of what seemed to be tea, freshly steaming and exuding a tempting scent of foreign spices Soren could not place.

“Honestly?” Soren shrugged, looking around some more. “I was just curious what this would look like from the inside. You sure travel in style…”

For a moment the prince seemed too surprised to answer, his deep brown eyes only blinking up into Soren’s face before an annoyed huff escaped him at the audacity.

“Well, thank you. Have you sated your curiosity by now?”

Soren might not have been too gifted when it came to interpreting social situations and showing mannerisms that would pass as modest and polite. But he knew that at this point he should have nodded, excused himself and left. But he could not do that very well when those dark eyes narrowed and his gaze slipped lower, down the prince’s body where instead of the armour he had worn before only a thin robe covered his skin.

“Not even close…”, he hummed, eyes flicking back up to meet Kasef’s who raised an immaculate eyebrow at him. That was one look Soren could interpret without problems.

The next sip the prince took of his tea was slow and controlled, the movement of his arm raising the cup to his lips languid, allowing Soren to watch the slow shift of muscles beneath smooth skin. Long lashes fluttered as Kasef savoured the warmth, his Adam’s apple bobbing once he swallowed.

Soren had never seen anyone drink with this much sensuality and decided that whatever the prince thought of his thinly veiled request this was not what rejection looked like. Shooting one last look at the relaxed prince enjoying his tea he soon turned his attention to the sword still strapped to his belt and removed it with a few practised motions, leaning the sheath against one of the carved wooden poles propping up the tent.

Next came his cloak and the heavy shoulder guards, his sturdy chest piece, leaving only the shirt he wore underneath to cover his torso. Before Soren could bend down though to open the clasps on his heavy boots he heard Kasef’s smooth voice cut through the still air inside the tent.

“Stop.”

Soren froze. Had he misread the signs? It was not like the prince had seemed disgusted at the idea but he also had not exactly agreed or given consent in any other way than to stay silent and sip his tea. Soren felt a sudden heat shoot into his face and took a quick step or two backwards, gaze flicking across the ground but never meeting the prince’s.

“I’m s-sorry, I thought … I’ll leave. Have a … have a good night, your royal…”

A smooth laugh that made his skin prickle like the touch of a lover.

“No, I will let you stay”, the prince purred and when Soren finally worked up the courage to meet his eyes they were hot and calculating, like a cat planning how to play with their next meal. “But it will not be because I enjoyed our conversation so much or because I want to be your friend.”

Another laugh, this one less smooth and more cutting, like the idea not only amused but appalled him in a sense. Soren’s cheeks were still burning.

“It will be because I could use a hot bed warmer tonight and I have a feeling someone like you will do nicely.”

A moment passed during which Soren could muster no other reaction than blinking slowly, trying to process the amused words. He might not have been too great at reading subtleties but he could still determine this had not been a compliment.

So be it. He was not here to make friends with the arrogant prince either. Or at least that had not been his main goal when stepping into the tent.

“If you want me to be here then why did I have to stop undressing?”

“Because…”, Kasef’s voice trailed off as his eyes slowly wandered down Soren’s body, taking in the broad shapes of his shoulder, the attractive cinch of his waist, the thick thighs hidden behind solid metal plating. “You should not be focusing on yourself like that. First you are going to serve me.”

His movements just as languid and seductive the prince reached out to set the empty tea cup aside before leaning back into the wealth of pillows propping him up. He looked utterly sinful like that, with his body barely hidden beneath the thin robe and his legs splaying apart most deliciously.

“Then I will determine whether your performance warrants further steps.”

What the prince demanded was presumptuous and arrogant but it also made a sweet tug of arousal appear in Soren’s abdomen at the thought of having to earn his own pleasure. He barely needed a moment to fall to his knees in front of the prince, ready to serve and prove his own worth.

**Author's Note:**

> Check out my [tumblr](https://fenfyre.tumblr.com/) or my [pillowfort](https://www.pillowfort.io/fenfyre)


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